


lady xanax where were you

by jadlz



Series: summer after highschool, when we first met [1]
Category: The Bright Sessions (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F, F/M, House Party, Implied Sexual Content, Internalized Homophobia, Recreational Drug Use, Spin the Bottle, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 14:50:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16997064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadlz/pseuds/jadlz
Summary: It was easier to find poetry in empty beer bottles than in the lips of other girls. Easier to stomach, at the very least.





	lady xanax where were you

**Author's Note:**

> tw for references to weed, alcohol, and xans

     Chloe was infamous for her parties. More specifically, her party games. Her parties never once held a lulled moment, every second being swept away by card or board games, spin the bottle, or a high stakes round of truth-or-dare.

 

     When she proposed a game, it was always best to say yes. It was easier that way. She had a way with people, a way to get under their skin, make them play by saying the one thing to get them to. Rumors on the street said she could read minds, and she did very little to assuage that- just _look_ at her- but they were usually taken with a grain of salt.

 

     Spin the bottle was one of the tamer games she had introduced that night, but each member in the circle still sat nervous, fidgeting with worn-out friendship bracelets or with the hem of too-short shirts. It was high school.

 

     She had boldly volunteered herself first, to ‘break the ice’, so she quickly placed the bottle in her hand onto the hardwood in the center. The brown glass cast a golden shadow across the floor, sparkling with condensation from the drink recently downed. It was easier to find poetry in empty beer bottles than in the lips of other girls. Easier to stomach, at the very least.

 

     Chloe spun the bottle with a flick of her wrist, a hollow sound resounding against the floor as it spun and spun. The neck was followed with anticipatory eyes of the crowd, counting its rounds. It slowly came to a stop to a boy somewhere to her left. He was easy to recognize, he hung with her often. Frank, or something. She smiled coolly and shuffled on her knees over to him, knocking the bottle sideways on her way over.

 

     They kissed like they were used to it. Both of their eyes shut and he placed his hands on her shoulders. They were just friends, everyone knew that, but the audience waited with bated breath for them to part nonetheless. After a silent moment, they pulled away with a quiet smack from Chloe’s lipgloss and shuffled back to their seats.

 

      “See? No harm, no foul. It’s just a game,” she smiled again and took a deep breath. She was right. It _was_ a game, but the way her lips glistened softly from her smudged lip gloss made many disagree with the _no harm_ part of the deal.

 

      The game continued without incident, for the most part. The bottle spun and spun and more and more kisses were exchanged. There was top 40s pop playing from someone’s phone speaker, overlayed by girlish giggles and that oh-so distinct sound of glass rolling on wood.

 

      Sam had zoned out by that point, it was evident by the vacant and slightly nervous expression clouding her features. She was deep in thought, only pulled from it by someone bumping into her shoulder, smiling and pointing. The bottle had landed on her, wobbling to the left and right before stopping. She looked up, eyes shifting to find whose turn it was, and she met the host of the party’s gaze. Chloe smiled, pearly teeth with a small gap in the center, beaming. Sam’s stomach did flips.

 

     Chloe shuffled forward on her knees again, and Sam followed suit to meet her in the middle. Someone whistled when Sam licked her lips, cursing herself for not putting on chapstick beforehand. Would it be weird to stop it now? Would she seem too eager? Could Chloe feel the shake in her breath?

 

     “Relax,” Chloe whispered in the space between them, heard by the girl in front of her alone. _Easier said than done,_ Sam thought wryly. Then, unceremoniously, Chloe’s lips were on her own. They tasted like cherry, and slid smooth together. Belatedly, Sam closed her eyes. A hand touched her cheek and tilted her head to the right and _oh._

 

     Their lips slotted together, noses brushing one another in a perfect lock. Chloe was all around her, suffocating. Her manicured nails brushed the hair by Sam’s ear back and she shivered. When they pulled apart, Sam couldn’t help but wish it had lasted longer. Her cheeks were splotchy as she shuffled back to her spot. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

 

* * *

 

 

     Joan felt her stomach drop. It was a sick, twisting feeling in her gut. A disgusting mix of jealousy and guilt and the emotions that come with seeing something you shouldn’t have. She felt _invasive._ She twisted around in her seat to reach the cooler behind her, and pulled out a sweating bottle of her own. Just something to take the edge off.

 

     The night had dragged on in a haze after that. She wasn’t _drunk_ she just wasn’t… sober. The game had long since been abandoned, and the buzz of the earlier party life had slowly petered off into the basement where Joan was _fairly_ certain her brother and other friends were being hotboxed.

 

     She vaguely recognized Chloe’s sleeping form in the doorway as she stumbled from the room and _okay_ this whole drunk-thing was a bit disorienting. Joan found herself in the bathroom before she had registered needing to use it in the first place.

 

     She stopped in front of the bathroom mirror and tried to look up and meet her own eyes, but a wave of nausea passed over her and she thought maybe leaning over the sink was a better idea. She sunk to her knees to rest her forehead against the cool marble of the countertop, and tried to count her breaths like she had taught Mark to do.

 

     Joan had officially made it to 16 breaths (after restarting twice) when she heard the door creak open wider, and felt it nudge her foot. She opened her eyes to look up, and immediately saw Sam, standing like a deer in headlights, in the doorway.

 

      “Oh, I- I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was in here. I was looking for… Chloe? Do you know her? I mean, of course you know her, this is her party, but do you-” Sam spoke nervously as Joan brought herself back up to her feet, head spinning, and tried to properly appreciate the height difference between them. Her rambling trailed off.

 

     “I do know Chloe, I believe she's passed out downstairs. It's Samantha, right?”

     Her vision was swimming, but she could focus on Sam, this way. The world was twisting behind her, but Sam stayed standing.

 

      “Sam. It's Sam. Or- or Samantha. Whichever you prefer. I like Sam. You're Mark's sister, right?”

 

      Joan chuckled softly, “Yes. I usually go by Joan, though.”

 

     Sam startled and started to apologize and Joan took the moment to notice the flush crawling up her neck and ears. She looked very pretty, and Joan hoped that she herself didn't have the sweaty temples and booze-thick breath she felt she had. She zoned back in to what Sam was saying.

 

     “..need some medicine? You look kind of sick, and I always have some on me.”

     Joan opened her mouth to say no, but another wave of nausea wracked down her spine and she felt herself nodding instead.

 

* * *

 

 

     Minutes later, they were sitting side by side against the tile wall and knocking back a pill each from Sam's pillbox in her purse. They were long, bar-shaped, and white, and it felt chalky going down Joan's throat.

 

     She had never felt so light before.

 

     The next morning, she woke up in a different room. Instead of the cool panels of the bathroom floor, she felt the shag carpet of the guest bedroom underneath her feet. Her knees were shaky as she stood, and she was entirely alone in the room, save for the light marks and kisses littering her thighs.

 

**Author's Note:**

> dont do drugs ! follow me on tumblr @clementinedyke


End file.
